Birthbitchii - Birth Bitch

Divine Pleasures

Write of someone trapped and struggling underneath their huge, squirming belly~

When the seed takes, he doesn't notice. He doesn't realize why his belly is getting bigger, or why his chest is tender and swollen. His partner knows exactly what's happening, how his sperm fertilized his eggs and they're now growing into babies inside his womb.

Every day, his partner feeds him, and he thinks he's just gaining weight. While he is packing on the pounds, there's something much bigger going on, right inside of his body, and he has no idea. He's getting fed more and more each day, filled with calories to grow the babies he doesn't know that he's carrying, his already burly, hairy body fattening day by day. In the third trimester, he almost grows visibly each day, his belly huge, heavy, and round, with a bulbous, red belly button sticking out. A dark line obscured by the hair on his belly confirms that that huge gut is packed full of kicking babies.

Soon, he gets so fat and pregnant, he's trapped in bed, hopelessly immobilized by his own gravid, fertile womb. His partner still feeds him thousands of calories every day, making sure that he keeps blowing up, keeps getting huge with his babies. His tits are round and swollen, becoming more and more painfully engorged with each passing day.

His partner rubs his belly, encouraging their babies to move and strain the already tightly stretched skin of his massive girth. The first baby is low in his pelvis, but he doesn't know what that heavy object wedged in his hips is. "Won't be long now," his partner says, squeezing his breasts so that milk sprays out in impressive streams. He's shocked, and doesn't know what those words mean until his belly seizes painfully, and a torrential burst of fluid floods out from between his spread legs.

these baby's are growing really fast

So Painful

Nebula in Bloom [Chapter 2]

In the near future, radioactive meteorites regularly fall to earth and cause non-cancerous tumors called teratomas to form in the abdomens of people exposed to them. While most people try to prevent these and get them removed, a subculture of online streamers purposefully develops and grows them as large as possible. Contains: object pregnancy, belly expansion, non-binary character, nbpreg, mpreg, fpreg, sci fi setting, bursting/popping, implied fatality. Content warning for dark themes and implied death.

[Previous Chapter]

When Nebula stepped outside they were surprised at how dark it was, as dark as the inside of their apartment. They hadn’t looked outside in so long that they had no idea whether it was day or not before they were actually out there. Their sensitive eyes squinted against the dull yellow light of the streetlamp, the electronic buzz humming in the air like a swarm of flies. If it hadn’t been absolutely necessary they wouldn’t have gone out at all.

The protective garments hugged against their abdomen like a vice, as tight as a corset. Most people hated wearing them, necessary as they were, and would invest a month’s rent or more into lightweight, less constrictive versions that (purportedly) offered the same level of radiation protection. Nebula didn’t mind the tight garment-- though they sometimes pejoratively referred to it as their ‘Mormon underwear’-- and in fact felt a vague comfort from the flattening quality of it. From the navel down, everyone was as flat as a Ken doll. An equalizer.

The inside of the convenience store was sparsely stocked and the floor had clearly suffered some recent water damage. A hideous tungsten bulb flickered overhead near the cashier. The entire back half of the store was completely unlit. Nebula rounded an aisle, grabbed a packet of instant noodles off the shelf, and brought them to the front desk.

While the cashier counted a dollar in miscellaneous coins, the television attached to the wall played the news with dull, barely audible sound, the accompanying subtitles scrolling across the bottom of the screen with a disorienting delay.

“Astronomers are predicting scattered meteors tonight and tomorrow. As always, the National Health Department is recommending remaining indoors until the showers have concluded and cleanup is complete. If you must leave your home, they are advising you to wear protective gear over the reproductive regions.”

The cashier, a male in his early 30s, slid a penny across the desk.

“This is yours,” he said.

As Nebula lifted their hand to retrieve it, they lifted their eyes and saw the definite outward curve of the cashier’s middle beneath his tank top. His belly pressed against the waistband of his pants, a thin slice of skin visible below his top. Naked skin, unprotected by the thick fabric of the radiation suit.

The man scratched at his belly, soothing the itch of a developing stretch mark, then tugged his tank down over the curve.

Nebula pocketed the change and the noodles and left.

In the mirror of their apartment, Nebula lifted their shirt and rolled down the long undergarment until it was folded up around their waist. Their fingers traced over the flat space beneath their navel, the sparse trail of hair that lead into their underwear brushing against the digits.

The masses that grew in the abdomens of people exposed to cosmic radiation weren’t pregnancies but looked like them. They most closely resembled teratomas-- masses of irregular but non-cancerous flesh that bundled up into heavy boulders inside them, displacing the organs around them and distending their bellies, stretching and rounding them out until they appeared as though they were with child. If the person had a uterus, the growth took root inside it; and if they didn’t, it usually lodged itself somewhere along the intestinal tract. Most people had the growths surgically removed as soon as they were discovered, if they could afford it. Sometimes saving enough money for the procedure took so long that the teratoma gestated inside them and grew into an intrusive bump on their middle. If they got large enough the host might not be able to bend at the waist or even walk. Fortunately, the procedure to remove it was relatively simple, if you could get it.

Nebula looked at their belly in the reflection and pushed it out, the smallest curve appearing, before releasing their breath and returning to flatness. The image of Angelique’s enormous womb flashed inside their mind. It must have been so tight. The skin must have burned from how large she had become.

They pushed their belly out again, pressing their fingers into it. Their prick was a hard, tingling nub of pleasure between their pussy lips, as big as the tip of a finger and buzzing with sensation as it rubbed against their underwear. Exhale; flat again.

Some people did not get the teratomas removed. They kept them inside and nourished them and let them grow. Some people exposed themselves to the radiation that fell from the sky in glittering fragments of shattered space rocks just so they could get a belly. Nebula watched them on their computer screen, watched them caressing their heavy mounds and gush about how much they loved being big and full and stretched to the limit.

Their eyelids fluttered shut as they rubbed themselves inside their pants, hand slipping beneath the compression of their suit, stroking their cock, rubbing their pussy juice over it, their other hand climbing into their shirt so they could tease the pointed nipple on their small bud of breast.

A belly so huge they could hardly carry it. So full their hips creaked, so massive their skin split and scarred. The heaviness, the weight, the shape.

Nebula imagined themselves as big as Angelique, bigger even, and came.

The meteorite was the size of a beach ball and roped off with overlapping stripes of yellow tape that bore the words CRIME SCENE-- DO NOT ENTER. The rock was hot, so hot that that Nebula could feel it from ten yards away, gray ribbons of steam licking the night sky as they rose from the object’s cracked surface.

The inside of the rock pulsed a neon green, lit from within. It illuminated Nebula’s face from below, their features bathed in the blinding, unnatural light. As they lifted the yellow tape, ducking under it, the heat became intense, almost too much for them to bear. A gust of air seemed to rise up from inside the meteorite, their hair wafting back away from their face. They were suddenly very aware of their unprotected abdomen, naked under their clothes without the compressive gear. The breeze kicked up, the space rock humming, Nebula’s shirt rising a few inches over their torso and exposing their belly to the radioactive debris.

This is it, they thought to themselves.

It wasn’t exactly clear how long they were supposed to stand in front of the meteorite before the radiation would have an effect. Their internet searches had been inclusive; nobody had ever done an official study on just how much exposure caused the reproductive growths to form, and the levels of radiation seemed to vary immensely from object to object. It was a total guessing game.

The skin of Nebula’s face felt tight and dry. Their eyes squinted against the light. The interior of the meteorite pulsed, throbbing like an organ, the intensity of the glow increasing until they were forced to look away with their arm coming up over their eyes.

They took a few steps backwards, nearly stumbling, the backs of their thighs knocking back into the crime scene tape and almost tripping them onto their ass. Taking that as a sign, Nebula dipped under it and headed back towards their apartment. The entire front of their body warm and dehydrated, like they had been sitting in the sun a little too long. They licked at their lips, feeling the cracked surface with their tongue.

The air became markedly cooler as they left the radiated area and returned to the main streets. A chill overcame them, making them shiver. A film of sweat coated Nebula’s hairline, the back of their neck. They had expected to feel like they’d done something naughty afterwards, like they’d shoplifted or told a lie, but they didn’t. Maybe it was because there was no way to know if it had worked yet. Only time would tell.

They hopped on their computer as soon as they returned to their apartment. In the bottom right of their screen, the chat box flickered with a pending notification.

Fr00tbask3they check out your guys stream he’s finally started coming along

Nebula opened up the streaming site and scrolled through to find Imminent Dad’s page. Fortunately, he was still online. When Nebula entered the stream they could see what their friend meant: the man’s middle was visibly more distended than it had been a few days ago. His belly was now so large that it encroached upon his lap, half the length of his thighs concealed by the growth pressing the flesh of his abdomen out into the open space.

The man caressed it, breathing heavily through the circle shape of his mouth. Nebula got the impression that this wasn’t merely an act. The mass had grown so large in such a short span of time that his skin was visibly flushed even in the poor resolution of his built-in webcam. His stretch marks had deepened, and widened, the scars ridged and purple as if he’d been clawed by an animal across his hips and gut.

“It’s getting...really big…” the model groaned, his palm cupping the underside to take some of the weight off his back. “And I’m starting to feel...ohh...some irregular contractions…”

The man’s middle seized, the flesh of his gut clenching around the teratoma inside him, his muscles pulling the growth in towards the center of his body. He cried out, both hands flying to the far end of his belly. A sickening noise emitted from his intestines, a low and wet churning that signaled his gestation was coming to an end.

He exclaimed, “Ah, fuck, it’s breaking out of me!”

The chat erupted in protest, pleading with the model to hold in the growth.

Breathe thru it!

dont u dare let it out

fuckkkk it’s totally gonna burst him he didn’t even get that big

The man’s eyes bugged and he attempted to pant through the contraction, his lips distended and sputtering, his thighs parting instinctively.

His massive belly dropped down on his lap dramatically, his entire middle blushing a furious red. The stretch marks, thin and scratch-like across his abdomen, began to widened and darken.

Wonder how he’s gonna have that thing

such bullshit his stream only just started getting good

On the model’s lap, red fluid began to weep from the stretch marks. The man screamed as his body began to expel the mass, unable to contain the size and weight of it any longer.

“FUCK, IT’S COMING OUT OF ME!” he bellowed, one of his hands flying to his navel, the other to the underside, his skin opening up beneath his hands. “IT’S COMING, IT’S COMING!”

Nebula exited the stream. Their mouth felt glued shut. They felt a vague sense of horror envelope them like a wet blanket. It must have been terrible to go through all that only to get that big. The model didn’t even get that large before his body started pushing the teratoma out. It seemed like such a waste.

Nebula wiped the sweat from their brow with the back of their hand. The consolation, they thought, was that Imminent Dad’s growth really wasn’t that big, so it would probably be safe to expel it manually. They might need to get stitched up at a doctor after, but it wasn’t so large that it would kill them. People had done it before.

Someone like Angelique, on the other hand, could not possibly survive expelling a teratoma that large. At its widest point, the growth was much larger than her pelvis, it just had to be. If she was unable to ease her contractions and her body continued to push it…

Nebula removed their glasses so they could rub their tired eyes with the heel of their hand. They pushed the thought out of their mind. Imminent Dad would be fine. People had birthed teratomas much larger than that and been fine.

He probably didn’t even look into preservation techniques, they thought. Absentmindedly, Nebula rubbed their palm against their middle.

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eggs should glow and be visible through your skin. I want everyone to know that I’m pregnant with eggs.

Rubbing your small bump, looking longingly into the mirror as you continue the movements, almost in a trance.

You hadn’t noticed it before, you were just idly getting dressed today and noticed you looked a little round near your navel. Not quite Foodbaby but also surprisingly…firm…

You tried to not think about it much. You hadn’t had any kind of sex in…

A month and a half…

No no…just your mind overthinking, nothing more. You didn’t have any symptoms, you probably just ate a lot and it’s sitting low.

Although that guy you last hooked up with did seem a little…off. Very animalistic with how he fucked you…but not rough just as if he was holding back a lot, haven’t seen him since in the local area…

You simply push hard on your belly which makes the bump go away and continue getting dressed.

I wonder how long you’ll be before you realise…

the detail about pushing the belly being enough to make it go away makes me so hot. eventually there will be no room for the pregnancy to hide in my hips, no amount of hands pushing down on the outside, or poking and prodding the belly in the mirror will make the steadily swelling reality go away.

it’s not long before it happens. the belly grows fast.

i’d wonder what’s inside me when i find myself cradling my now-modest bump. i’m still in denial—a tumor, a food allergy, some kind of intestinal disease? but deep down, as i anxiously rub at my belly, i know it’s life.

i wonder how long it’ll take me to realize it’s not human, though.